


It's All Bloody Interesting

by kiso22



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bargaining, First Time, M/M, Mates, Motorcycles, Smoking, Tattoos, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiso22/pseuds/kiso22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was done with being a poster boy for the Wizarding World. He left Britain to travel, to learn, but most importantly, to find out who he really was. However, again, tragic events changed his plans and his life. He had to realize that maybe becoming a father is a bigger challenge than defeating a Dark Lord. But how does one Severus Snape come into the picture? With the help of little Teddy Lupin, of course! Helping his son with his school project, Harry explores all that is and beyond interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Bloody Interesting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unbroken_halo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbroken_halo/gifts).



> Millions of thanks to my wonderful beta, accioslash!

Speeding through Muggle London on his beloved Kawasaki was one of the biggest thrills in Harry’s life these days. At the age of twenty-nine, he was comfortably settled in his ways, and had long given up on the great adventures that once pretty much typified his very character. While thoughts of Quiddich and flying still held some happy memories, the feelings they evoked left a much more bitter taste in his mouth than a sweet one. That part of his past belonged to the period he mentally labelled “before the war” and he tried not to lament over it too much. He had changed in too many ways after having been forced to fight, survive, and kill. The war and its two grand leaders had taken the last shreds of innocence from him—an innocence that he, for some reason, associated with flying, a once favorite activity that he could no longer find enjoyment in.

Instead, Harry kept in shape by practicing various martial arts: activities he had taken up while travelling abroad. Nonetheless, he retained a guilty pleasure riding his motorbike, as he found there was nothing like flying through the streets at a speed the Muggle Police would have definitely disapproved of, had they had the ability to detect him behind the strong disillusionment charms he always cast on himself and his vehicle. And while Harry knew that he couldn't have got in trouble for his less-than-exemplary driving habits, the thrill of the forbidden never failed to speed up his heartbeat and fill his veins with an almost addictive adrenaline rush.

Today, Harry definitely needed that rush. He was still reeling from the shock that his son had just dumped upon him via a seemingly innocuous letter.

_Dear Dad,_

_I hope you are well. I really, really need your help. There is this school project about the war that I want to do. If I won, I could go to a summer camp with kids my age from all over the world who also won similar competitions in their schools! We have to interview a war hero and I want my project to be about Headmaster Snape, but he rejected everybody’s request. Please, please, help me get him on board!_

_Love,_

Teddy

_PS: I told him that you wanted to talk to him. I’m counting on you, Dad!_

He just couldn’t believe the cheek of that child! He had not seen Snape since the man’s trials, when he did his best to free that reclusive bastard from Azkaban. And because he succeeded, Harry felt that whatever debt had remained between them had finally been paid. Thus, with a last nod of his head, a gesture he believed to be their final goodbye, he walked away thinking that he would never meet Snape again. While Harry had come to respect the Potions Master, it was a grudging admiration for the strength of the man who had been prepared to sacrifice everything to gain redemption. And while he was able to admit that the git deserved his peace, he still couldn’t find it in himself to like him. Snape was still a bastard, as he always had been, and Harry reckoned that he would always be. Yet now it seemed that he needed to face the reinstated headmaster once more for the sake of his son. What a mess!

When he reached the corner of Grimmauld Place, Harry slowed down and finally stopped between numbers eleven and thirteen. Before him, number 12 revealed itself to welcome its true owner, the legal heir of the Black family. As Harry took off his helmet, he observed the once gloomy place and the changes he'd made on it since he decided to create a home from the once somber house. After parking the bike on the slowly withering autumn leaves that covered the front yard, he leant back against it, and after some rummaging, took out a packet of cigarettes and lit one. Taking some deep drags from a stub, Harry allowed himself to remember those times.

Right after the war, Harry had spent some months travelling around before settling down in Egypt, intrigued by Bill’s stories about mummies, pyramids, and millennia-old artefacts. He finally had the time to find himself and become whatever he wanted to become without the constant pressure of the British Wizarding world. He had learned that he no longer had any desire whatsoever to become an Auror and chase dark wizards and escaped Death Eaters. He had found that he hadn’t needed to marry Ginny to be part of the Weasley family, because he had been considered a member far longer than he would have dared to believe before. He had also realized that he was truly, completely, and irrevocably gay, at which point Harry had given thanks to whatever deity existed that he had not made a fool out of himself by proposing to Ginny. Honorary Weasley or not, that might have pushed things a bit too far with the red-headed, quick-tempered bunch.

After enjoying some quality tourist time, as well as some experimentations of the hot and sticky kind, Harry had decided to accept Bill’s advice, and he had contacted the ex-colleagues of the oldest Weasley brother. Initially, he had been merely curious about some of the curses he had read about and seen around the city, but the way Bill’s friends had introduced him to curse-breaking intrigued him so much from the start the he had been instantly sucked into their business. Curse-breaking had been both exhilarating and frustrating for the very same reasons: in Egypt, the phenomenon of the Boy Who Lived/The Man Who Defeated You Know Who was no longer an issue and no one had cut him any slack for it. Harry had had to work his arse off to learn the ropes of the job, and even then he had been treated with jokes and some mocking because of his youth and inexperience. And while his new colleagues had not been homophobic per se, as overly manly men they had teased Harry mercilessly about his preferences.

It took him a year, but gradually Harry had managed to gain their respect as he had matured and lived up to his potential. It hadn’t hurt that he had gone through an unexpected, but very much welcome, late growth spurt, and had filled out his once scrawny and gangly frame with hard-earned muscles. He had let his hair grow, always sported a few days worth of stubble, and acquired a good doctor who helped him get rid of his awful glasses. Soon after this, despite his easy-going nature, he’d come to be considered just as bad-arse a curse-breaker as the others, which had put a stopper in all the teasing that he’d had to suffer through at the beginning.

All in all, Harry had found contentment, and while he missed his friends and an occasional fine British brew, he had had no intention of returning to England. Owls had been frequent and filled with details of their new lives, and while Harry had always felt a nagging guilt for missing so much of his godson’s first years, he reassured himself by sending gifts and photos, while memorizing every word Andromeda had written to him about little Teddy.

As he drew one last drag of his cigarette, he flicked it away with a preoccupied air, and lit another one, while he lamented on how all good things—that peaceful period included—had to come to an end. In that case, it had been an abrupt and painful one to which Harry had had no time to adjust before he had found himself in the deep end of things again. He had learnt the devastating news that Andromeda had passed away barely after Teddy had celebrated his second birthday. The Healers said it had been the unexpected result of the chicken pox. While Teddy bore it with the resilience only a child could have for such things, it had hit Andromeda hard, as no one had thought that she had not gone through it already. The sickness wore her strength down in less than a week, leaving Teddy orphaned for the second time.

When Harry had packed to come home for the funeral, he knew he’d have to pack up his whole life, because there would be no coming back to Cairo. From that moment on, Teddy had become the main pillar of his life; there had been no way he would have let his godson grow up the way Harry had. He had promised himself that no matter what else was to happen, he would give Teddy the childhood he had never had.

Now looking up at the comfortable house—the home he had created for them—Harry managed to smile. No, it had not been easy, sometimes it had seemed downright impossible, but somewhere along the way he had become a father instead of merely a godfather and there was nothing that he was more proud of than this aspect of his life. Putting out the cigarette, Harry heaved a deep sigh as he contemplated what to do. The anger and irritation he felt right after reading Teddy’s letter had melted away along the memory lane he rode through, leaving only a sense of resignation for whatever was yet to come. Because he knew that he was going to face Severus Snape again, the man who had once been a pariah and a Death Eater, the bane of Harry’s very existence, who was now the Headmaster of Hogwarts and a war hero. The only thing Harry had no clue about was how to convince the reclusive bastard to reveal his secrets about his part in the war. But Harry was damned if he did not make sure that his son won that blasted competition.

* * * * *

Harry wearily entered the house, all the while trying to form an appropriate reply to his son’s letter. He shrugged off his thick leather jacket and hung the helmet with the bike keys inside it on the hook of the hanger. He was about to step out of his boots when he suddenly stiffened. Something was off. Harry knew Grimmauld place very well and he knew its magic. But tonight, that magic was vibrating with an unfamiliar pulse. He could nearly taste the danger. He wasn’t alone. Wand in hand, he edged towards the stairs, carefully avoiding all the squeaky floorboards he knew by heart. As he crept closer towards the source of the unfamiliar magic, the darkness gave way to a dim light. The closer he got to the living room, the more he could see. A confused frown marred Harry’s face as he realized that whoever the intruder was, he had taken the time to light the fireplace. On an impulse, he deliberately made his steps heavier, then the moment he reached the open doorframe, he Apparated into the back of the living room.

His unexpected visitor didn’t bother to stand up until Harry surprised him with his Apparation. He didn’t even have the time to turn around, when his wand landed in Harry’s waiting hand. The triumphant smirk froze on Harry’s face as he realized who the intruder was. And his blood turned into ice, when he saw what he had become.

“Bloody hell!”

None other than Severus Snape stood in front of him. But instead of the customary scowl Harry was far too familiar with, Snape’s expression was contorted into a near animalistic fury as he hissed at Harry. Snape took a threatening step towards him, seemingly unaware or uncaring that he was defenceless without his wand, which was still in Harry’s secure grip while Harry’s own was trained steadily on Snape. Then, as if waking from a dream, the other man shook his head. Harry watched in morbid fascination as the previously demonic blue eyes changed back into black ones and the sharp fangs, visible from the snarling mouth, retracted behind thin lips. As Harry stood there, frozen with shock, Snape’s earlier expression of anger morphed into something akin to polite indifference. He inclined his head towards him in greeting, as though nothing was out of the ordinary, then slowly drawled in a bored tone, “It is an unexpected, yet welcome, surprise that you have not forgotten some lessons from the war.”

“I’m delighted that it's to your satisfaction,” answered Harry, then motioned towards the sofa, indicating to his guest to sit down. Maybe it was because he was disinclined to fight, maybe it was because he was still wandless, Harry didn’t know, but Snape sat back down without a comment. Harry himself chose the worn wingchair closest to the door and sat down in a casual sprawl with his legs crossed at the ankles and the wands loosely held in one hand in his lap. “Want anything? Tea? Or something stronger? Firewhisky, brandy? Maybe something more exotic? Blood?”

Instead of becoming angry, Snape seemed to be entertained by the false civility as he let his lips draw slightly upwards.

“I wouldn’t say no if the last was on offer, yet somehow I cannot imagine that you seriously meant it.” Harry snorted. At least Snape got that right on the first try. “As we crossed that one off of the menu, I’d go with tea. No sugar, with a splash of milk.”

Harry shook his head, barely able to believe Snape’s audacity. Entering his house without so much as a by your leave and politely asking for tea, as if he hadn’t nearly bitten his head off with those giant fangs of his. _Bloody bastard_ , thought Harry, and he could barely refrain from laughing out loud from the irony. He considered hexing the man back to Scotland for a moment, then remembered his son’s letter. _Right_ , he cursed inwardly, maybe a bit of courtesy wouldn’t go amiss.

“Kreacher!”

“Is Master Harry wanting something?” asked the venerable elf right after he popped into the room.

“Yes, Kreacher. Two teas, please, one black and one with a bit of milk.”

The elf bowed with an audible cracking as his ancient bones protested, making both wizards wince slightly, then disappeared from the living room.

“That elf is old,” started Snape, as if they were continuing a conversation that had started long before.

“And you finally decided to stop defying the rumour-mill and became a vampire.”

Snape smirked. “I was curious how long you were going to last before you brought up that little slip.”

“And I thought we were just stating the obvious.” Harry quipped sharply, then with a sigh, he composed his features into something more neutral then the irritated scowl he automatically assumed at the sight of his former professor. “Besides, we might as well get the elephant out of the room.”

Before Snape could answer, Kreacher arrived back with their tea and settled the tray onto the antique coffee table. “Thank you,” Harry said to him kindly, then watched in fascination as Kreacher shuddered as he shot a quick sideways glance to their unexpected visitor. The elf glanced back at his master and mouthed the word vampire in warning, before disappearing with a loud crack. Snape chuckled deeply, then took a cautious sip from his tea. He nodded, apparently satisfied, before appraising Harry from behind his cup.

Harry knew this look; he had been the subject of it many times since he had come back from Egypt. While at first he enjoyed the maverick, roguish look he acquired abroad, when Teddy went to school he had realized that he should at least try to look a bit more respectable. He had cut off his long hair, packed away the faded leather jacket he had been so fond of, and made an effort to look like the father he wanted to be.

Nowadays, he wore his hair with the top slightly longer and casually swept back while he had the sides cut short. He still sported the short beard, but he made sure that it always looked neat. He dressed in tailored jeans and occasionally smart trousers, and instead of the branded t-shirts, he opted to wear button-down shirts with their ends tucked into his trousers.

As a result, nobody had any reason to shoot him doubtful looks about his being a responsible parent, even though he was still very young to have a thirteen-year-old son. Yet those who hadn’t seen him for a long time were taken aback by the changes and had no idea what to make of him.

Snape didn’t seem to have that dilemma, though, as he went on without making a comment on the obvious changes he catalogued. “It happened during the second war. I was turned by a fledgling vampire from whom I should have acquired some information on the Dark Lord’s order. Unfortunately, I was not informed about his… predicament beforehand. Thus, I was foolish enough to accept… lodging under his roof. I woke up the way you saw me not long after.”

Harry nearly snorted. He could very well read between the lines; Snape was turned because he was too desperate for a shag. Also, this meant two more things: Snape was gay and just as lonely and unpopular as everybody expected him to be. Which kind of took away the mirth of the situation, if Harry wanted to be honest with himself.

“And how do you take care of your… appetite,” Harry asked, making sure that his voice and face maintained the polite indifference he wanted to broadcast. He saw no need at all to aggravate a vampire, even more so because he was painfully familiar with Snape’s temper. He expected an explosion; however, Snape merely frowned before he began to explain his situation in a tight voice.

“I would love to say that this is none of your business, but seeing that now you are aware of my… nature and as your son is currently under my care, somehow I doubt I can convince you to leave my private life private.” Snape sighed, then took another sip from his now tepid tea. When he continued, his voice was less strained, but it was clear he chose his words very carefully. “I am taking special potions which are helping to alleviate most of the hunger, and I regularly drink from animals and blood acquired from blood banks and hospitals.”

Harry considered this answer, then frowned when he remembered something from the DADA classes. “While I’m not an expert on the subject, I seem to recall that you need to drink fresh blood as well.” He barely finished speaking when he felt the taste in his mouth go bitter with the pang of realization that this piece of information had been passed onto him by none other than the late Remus Lupin.

Snape nodded with obvious reluctance. “Indeed. Twice a month I need to… acquire donors.” At Harry’s slightly widened eyes he finally snapped. “ _Willing_ donors, Potter. They are well compensated for their… troubles and none of them suffer lasting injuries. The Board of Governors, as well as the entire staff, are aware of my nature and none of them consider me a threat to the children. If your opinion differs from theirs, you are welcome to try to bring this to court, but under our current laws I can assure you that I can be no more considered an outlaw than you are.”

_This must be the most bizarre discussion of my life,_ Harry thought. They were sitting in his house, sipping tea, talking about Snape’s vampirism while he still had no idea why the other man decided to grace him with his presence.

“Now that you know that I don’t _bite_ ,” Snape interrupted his mental musings, “would you be so kind as to give my wand back to me? While I understand that you felt it necessary to disarm someone you considered to be an unwelcome intruder, now you are aware of who I am and have been informed of my nonviolent intentions.”

Incredulous, Harry arched a brow, but he didn’t even bother to dispute any of what Snape said, as it was painfully obvious that he saw things very differently from Snape—starting with the fact that he still considered the man an unwelcome intruder and he could never believe him about nonviolent intentions when he was snapping like that. However, he didn’t really believe that Snape had any reason to harm him; thus, he opened his left palm in which Snape’s wand had rested so far and offered it to him. Snape, as expected, promptly summoned it to himself, then after sending a meaningful glance to Harry, he tucked it away inside his robes.

“That settled, we can move on to the topic I originally wished to discuss with you,” Snape stated.

“Not that I’m not intrigued,” interrupted Harry, “but would you like to explain why—and how—you barged into my home without so much as a by your leave?”

To Harry’s surprise, Snape started smirking in obvious amusement. “I was invited, of course.”

“By whom?”

“Your son, naturally.” It was clear that Snape had realized from Harry’s initial reaction that he had no knowledge about such invitation and he seemed the more entertained by it. “He asked me, repeatedly, to spend my precious and sparse free time with him to explain my role in the war. Well, both wars to be precise.”

Harry was barely able to refrain from growling as he was steadily growing tired of Snape’s game. “Of that I am aware. As far as I know, you refused him every time.”

“True,” Snape stated, completely unapologetic. “However, young Theodore proposed that you might be able to recompense me for my troubles. Quite serendipitous, wouldn’t you think, Potter?”

Harry couldn’t help but snort at that. “Serendipitous?”

“Lucky, if you will,” Snape explained haughtily, then took a sip to hide the smirk that was lurking at the edges of his thin lips.

Harry took a deep breath, barely refraining from rolling his eyes. “I’m well aware what the word means, Snape. I just wouldn’t have assumed you would use it.”

“Which only means that you don’t know me at all. However, if you were to agree to a bit of a quid pro quo, the situation could be rectified.”

The calculated look in Snape’s eyes put Harry even more on guard, but, seeing that the bastard at least was willing to consider helping his son, he went on with this little play that he had yet to learn the rules of. “And what exactly do you expect from me?”

“Nothing too strenuous, I assure you. I would only need to meet with you a couple of times for a few weeks. My only request about these appointments is that I’d like them to be public and to appear amicable enough. Then, at the beginning of December, I’d like you to accompany me to the Board’s annual gala.”

Harry could do nothing but stare. This sounded suspiciously like Snape wanted… “Are you asking me to date you?” The incredulousness in his voice said more about what he thought of this arrangement than he could have properly phrased in words.

Snape only gave an impatient sigh before he went on to explain. “Do not fear, I have no intention of attempting to woo you. I merely need to sway the opinion of the Board. I’ve been trying to create a new curriculum for the school that would help the Muggle-borns learn about Wizarding traditions while the pure-bloods would have to take courses about Muggles. Even though this would be highly beneficial for everyone, the Board is, as always, unwilling to let change happen. As you are still the Golden Hero, even though you defied all expectations in both your career and private choices, your… support would make it easier for me to achieve something that should have been long incorporated into the system.”

Snape tried to appear passive as he described his plans, but his frustration and anger about the Board’s reluctance was obvious in the tightness of his voice and the deeply etched frown between his eyebrows. Harry, for a change, could easily sympathize with the man, as he always thought that education at Hogwarts was seriously lacking in this respect. And while he didn’t like the idea that he would have to be the poster boy yet again, he couldn’t find one reason why he shouldn’t agree to it. For him, it was a win-win situation: he would be able to help his son out and would be able to do something about the system that had always annoyed him. Because of his Muggle upbringing, his lack of knowledge about Wizarding traditions could still surprise him at the worst times. The fact that, as Snape put it, he could again defy people’s expectations of him was an added bonus. Dating Snape would certainly shock and piss off his many so-called fans.

He held Snape’s expectant stare before he nodded in agreement. “Fine. I’ll agree to go on public dates with you and to act amicable and supporting—as long as you will treat me with the same respect you wish me to show towards you. In exchange, you’ll help Teddy with this pet project of his.”

It seemed that a weight was lifted from Snape’s shoulders as he slightly relaxed his posture. “I will tell him whatever he needs to know, and what I consider to be appropriate for the public. That settled, how about Friday, seven o’clock, at the Ratatouille?”

Harry made a moue of distaste. “No way anyone who knows anything about me would believe that I would willingly set a foot into such a horrendously posh place. Let’s meet here, and I’ll take you to someplace… more interesting. It is public, and for some reason, I have a feeling you’ll like it.” After a moment of consideration, he added, “And wear Muggle clothes—something casual, not too fancy. You would look out of place otherwise.”

Snape frowned, but seemed to consider it. It was obvious he didn’t like the idea of Harry dragging him someplace unknown, yet he looked tired and weary enough to want to finish this conversation as soon as possible. “Fine. I’ll Floo here, then you can take me to this mysterious establishment. Though I warn you, Potter, if you think about pranking me, you will seriously regret it.”

Harry grinned at Snape’s paranoia. “Quid pro quo, remember?”

Snape nodded, then, surprising Harry, he walked up to him after standing up and offered his hand to him. Harry stood up as well, and accepted the hand and the gesture for what it was—after nearly two decades of enmity, they finally settled on a truce. As he shook Snape’s strong, slightly cooler hand, he looked at the face of the current headmaster. As the unfathomable black eyes stared back, Harry only hoped that this whole business would be worth the effort for his son. A son with whom he needed to have a few choice words about invitations and proposals without his prior knowledge or acquiescence.

* * * * *

“You cannot be seriously expecting me to get on this… vehicle, Potter.”

Harry watched in amusement as Snape stared in wide-eyed horror at the Kawasaki. Gotcha, he thought, mentally congratulating himself that he had managed to take the master spy by surprise.

“Don’t get so worked up. I told you, we're going to do something different.” He very nearly asked Snape whether he was afraid, but remembered their memorable encounter after the man killed Dumbledore and the way he reacted to being called a coward just before he uttered the haughty question. No, Snape was no coward, and at this point there was no need to antagonize the man. “It'll be fine. I’m a decent driver and at the very least we will have a dramatic entrance. People will notice. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Naturally, Snape recognized the Slytherin tactic for what it was, but he refrained from commenting on it. Instead, he exhaled an exasperated sigh then wearily glanced back at Harry. “You do realize that I have never used this means of transportation.”

Harry nodded. “I could have guessed. It’s not my wish to make this as miserable for you as possible. But I can't help but think that you are the type of person who is set in his ways. You should liven up a bit, try out new things. I might as well make you do it.”

He immediately realized that what he said came out wrong as Snape directed one of those famous scowls at him that usually made the lower-year students cry. “You cannot make me do anything I do not want to do.”

“Fine.” They barely started their “date” and Harry was already losing his patience with the recalcitrant man. “Do you want to go or not?”

For a moment, he expected Snape to say no right away out of habit, but the man only shook his head to express his displeasure, before nodding in acquiescence. “Very well. Give me that monstrosity.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he passed Snape the helmet. Before he put on his own, he gave a once-over to the older man. Snape hadn’t changed much; he was still tall and slender, but definitely less intimidating without his customary billowing black robes. His hair was slightly longer then it had been during Harry’s school years and it had yet to show signs of greying. The angular face wore the same severe expression, but the gauntness that haunted his features during the war was absent. In his black smart trousers with matching suit jacket and charcoal button-down shirt, Snape looked clean and casually elegant, not to mention years younger than a man in his late forties ought to. A long grey overcoat completed the look, and Harry had to admit that had the circumstances been different, he wouldn’t have minded taking this man on a real date. With only the slightest apprehension, he finished zipping up his jacket and took his place on the bike, motioning Snape to sit behind him.

“Hold on tight – no, not to my shoulders, put your arms around my waist,” Harry instructed. When the other man hesitated, he reached back and guided Snape’s hands around him. When he was sure that Snape wouldn’t complain or remove his arms, he released him. Before he lowered the visor on his helmet, Harry called back to Snape, “Try to enjoy yourself,” then kicked the bike into gear and took off.

At first, Snape’s grip on him was desperate enough to cause some discomfort to Harry, even though he must have had moderated his vampire strength, otherwise it could have easily crushed the younger wizard. Harry was surprised that this thought had only just occurred to him, and he was aware that many would have questioned his sanity for allowing such close contact with a feral creature. Yet he was secure in the knowledge that Snape had spent the better half of his adult life protecting him; therefore, he was sure that Snape had felt no desire to cause him harm. Well, fairly sure anyway, Harry thought, and with a smirk, he reminded himself that Snape had a helmet, which was good for both of them in case the vampire got any ideas about having a quick snack.

About halfway to their destination, Harry felt the tenseness ease out of Snape’s body. His arms lost their frantic grip and his body relaxed into Harry’s. As a side effect, his chest moulded into Harry’s back and his pelvis came into close contact with Harry’s backside. When he received no complaint, Snape splayed one hand comfortably over his companion’s solid pectorals and the other one over the muscular stomach. Harry felt his heart start hammering in his chest at the unexpected intimacy—a reaction he would later put down to the adrenalin rush from their ride. For he was sure that the older man must have felt it too, especially with his enchanted senses. On a whim of curiosity, he pushed his arse back a bit, and he was rewarded with a slight growl he felt coming directly from Snape’s chest and a distinct hardness pressing against him. Snape strengthened his grip around him warningly, just for a moment, then he eased his hold on Harry as he moved his hands in a way that could have been described as a caress. Harry exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding as he felt Snape relax back against him. _Definitely interesting,_ he thought, and he had to remind himself to concentrate on the road ahead instead of the delicious warmth that was emanating from the other man.

After a blessedly uneventful, if a tad uncomfortable, fifteen or so minutes Harry stopped his bike behind the Leaky Cauldron, pushed his visor up and looked back at Snape just to see him do the same.

“Diagon, Potter, really,” the man drawled, the slight disappointment clear in his voice.

“Don’t worry, Snape. You might just like where we are going,” answered Harry with a grin as he tapped his wand to the wall that separated the Wizarding and the Muggle worlds. Before he could sheath his wand, Snape put a hand on his arm.

“Take the Notice-Me-Not charm off your motorbike.”

“Hmm?”

“We are here to be seen,” came Snape’s reply and Harry could have sworn that he heard the smirk in the man’s voice. “You do remember, don’t you?”

Harry snorted. “Right. This will give you a grand entrance that would put even your usual theatrics to shame.”

Without waiting for an answer, he cancelled the spell on the Kawasaki, then kicked the bike into gear. Snape caught on at the last moment before the bike started, grabbing Harry’s waist roughly as they wheeled onto Diagon Alley. _Very interesting, indeed,_ thought Harry, and he couldn’t help but grin that for once, he had the last word with Snape.

* * * * *

They came to a halt directly on the corner of Diagon and Knockturn alleys. Harry promptly took off his helmet and turned back to Snape, who was just about to do the same.

“We're here.”

Snape looked at the place, named simply Den, with critical eyes. The building was tall and dark, and the logo vibrated with a greenish, eerie tint. There were two floors; from downstairs, the same verdant lustre seeped outside and illuminated the street, while from upstairs, one could see rapidly changing and fluctuating lights.

“Just what kind of a place have you brought me to?”

Harry grinned at his companion’s put-upon expression. “You won’t know unless you come inside, now will you?” Then, without waiting for a reply, he dismounted the bike and walked straight into the Den. Once inside, he didn’t take time to loiter and look around as he knew this place well. The ground floor served as a pub – a “ruin pub,” to be exact, and it was decorated with old and mismatched furniture. To his right there were tables, all of different origins and styles, with seats of all types crowding around them where usually the somewhat older and more proper clientele took their place. But to his left, several well-worn sofas, settees, and ottomans were placed, which, if not for the young couples and dates huddled close to each other in the artificially created intimacy, would have looked like an antique furniture auction. The one thing though, that jumped out of the picture, was an enormous old bathtub. Its bottom was covered with several ragged quilts and some patchy pillows, while in the middle, a wooden box was placed, which served as a table of sorts. While at this time no one occupied this peculiar… arrangement, it was known to be quite popular with young lovebirds.

Harry was just nodding to the bartender, a stocky, roguish man whose face was marred with deep scars that even broke the line of a once bushy eyebrow, when Snape caught up to him. And hissed.

“I do not appreciate your sense of humour, Potter.” He practically growled the words at Harry while narrowing his eyes dangerously at the scruffy man who was appraising him in return with obvious contempt.

Harry sighed. He had no patience for this glare-off and decided to step in before any more words could be said, or worse, hexes could be cast. “Cut it out, both of you. Werewolves, vampires, never-ending enmity—I call bull. We are here to have a nice time and a few drinks and mean no trouble. Now, Snape, what’s your poison?”

Snape was still glaring at Harry when he finally addressed the bartender. “Firewhisky.”

Harry shook his head. “Oh, no, you don’t. I haven’t brought you here to give you another chance to follow your usual routine.” He took a moment to scrutinize the drink list, then with a definite twinkle in his eyes, he called, “Two Bloody Marys, please.” His choice made the tension diffuse in the bartender as he snorted at the irony, while Snape managed to grit out, “Very funny,” between his clenched teeth.

A minute later, which Snape spent inspecting the pub with an air of haughtiness while Harry chatted amiably with the bartender, they had their drinks in hand. “Which side?” asked Harry, even though he knew what the other would choose. Snape, with a roll of his eyes, motioned with a tilt of his head towards the tables, and walked to the darkest, most isolated corner of the pub. _How… predictable,_ thought Harry, but he refrained from commenting.

“So, Snape,” Harry started, deciding that he might as well break the ice. “What have you been up to besides stalking Hogwarts’ corridors and changing millennia-old curricula?”

“It’s Severus,” he instructed and, at Harry’s surprised expression, he explained with an impatient air. “It would look quite… suspicious, if we did not manage to show a certain amount of intimacy, don’t you think?” At Harry’s amused snort, he went on to actually answer his question. “As you can imagine, I do not have much time on my hands. Between the Board and staff meetings, the endless paperwork, and as you so aptly described, stalking the corridors, I’m glad if I have the energy to brew a potion upon occasion. I do some research as well, but I doubt you would be interested in the details, if your attention span during my classes concerning the fine craft of potions-making is of any indication.”

“I think I could be persuaded to listen to it,” answered Harry with a teasing smirk, “and I might even understand some of it. You know, I’m not quite the imbecile you always believed me to be.”

Snape tilted his head to the side, his expression thoughtful. “I never truly believed you to be an imbecile but you always managed to act like one. You constantly rushed into danger without any plan whatsoever. You stole decades from my expected lifespan with your antics.”

Harry couldn’t help but snort at that. “Right. You look old and weathered, quite at the brink of death.”

To the younger man’s surprise, Snape’s lips twitched: barely, mind you, but it was an expression of amusement nonetheless.

“Perhaps the situation is not that dire quite yet.” With that, he clasped his glass between his long, elegant fingers and took a cautious sip of his drink. He blinked at the taste, obviously surprised but pleased, judging from the slightly fluttering eyelashes and the deep, earthy hum that emerged from his throat. Harry watched, mesmerized, as Snape chased the few escaped drops with his tongue, smearing the crimson liquid on his sensuous lips. He cleared his throat that suddenly felt far too dry for his comfort and took a huge gulp from his own drink, as well. Was Snape flirting with him?

“What about you, _Harry_ ,” asked Snape, obviously wanting to turn the tables, and Harry barely managed to contain a shudder at that deep, velvet voice. How could he have forgotten that voice? Even when he had hated the man, he had been fascinated by that tone and that timbre. He crossed his legs discreetly, while pondering how to answer that question.

“After the war I had travelled some. Forever and ever done chasing the evil. Settled down in Egypt for a while, and learned to be a Curse-Breaker. Came back when the need arose, but been doing the same. Not much, if you ask me. But it’s my life and I’m in control. I don’t give a rat’s arse what anyone thinks about me anymore. I’m quite pleased about what I have.”

Snape nodded, managing to look slightly surprised but not quite. As if he expected Harry to be what he and others wouldn’t have expected. “You grew up.” Then, giving Harry an intense, appraising look, he drawled with a smirk, “Quite fine, if you wish to ask me.”

A surprised bark of laughter escaped Harry as he realized that yes, Snape was definitely flirting with him. A few weeks before he would have scoffed at the very idea of having such a conversation with the other man, but right now, he didn’t mind how thing were turning out. The air suddenly felt heavy with possibility, and Harry unconsciously licked his lips before answering, his own voice half an octave deeper than usual. “You've changed, too. Despite your complaints about me driving you to an early grave, you look rather… delectable.”

Snape’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in suspicion, as if he expected Harry to mock him. When Harry in response pushed his left knee against Snape’s right one, the man visibly relaxed. “While your compliment is quite unexpected, it is not… unwelcome.” Then, he promptly took another sip from his drink as he tried to cover the sudden rush of colour that suffused his pale cheeks.

Harry pressed his leg closer to Snape’s as he shifted. “This _is_ … unexpected. I didn’t think that we could talk amiably or enjoy a few drinks in peace, let alone… well, flirt quite so blatantly.” As he saw that Snape’s so-far open expression started to close off, he hastened to explain. “Don’t get me wrong. We have quite a history between us. You and I… we each have a memory of the other that is, in many ways, less than flattering. But we changed and times have changed and… as you said, it is unexpected, but not unwelcome.”

Snape still seemed slightly uncomfortable in the face of Harry’s frankness, but at least he didn’t look like he was trying to escape. “Quite,” he murmured with reserve, but his deep, black eyes never left Harry’s and the younger man felt a tad shaky at the intensity of his stare.

“Don’t over-analyze it, Severus,” he said quietly, and for a moment, he brushed his hand against Snape’s slightly cooler one. Neither of them was prepared for the sudden electricity of the touch and they both shivered at the contact, all the while watching the other, seeing the desire mirrored in each other’s eyes. After a shaky breath, Harry grinned and daringly clasped the hand that he had previously only teased with his touch. “We’ll see where this goes. If nothing else, we still have the win-win situation from our deal.”

For the first time, Snape relaxed completely as he responded by intertwining their fingers. “Careful, Harry, unless you want me to think that I’m dealing with a closet Slytherin.”

Harry laughed, breaking the tension between them, but not the warmth of their newborn intimacy. For some reason, he felt that he would have to thank Teddy for his machinations. This deal was starting to get really interesting.

* * * * *

_Vampires, despite the popular misconceptions, are immune to the effects of garlic, holy water, and silver, though they show a degree of sensitivity to sunlight: hence their preference for the night. They are incapable of transforming into mist or taking on the form of a bat (unless they are Animagi with the natural form of a bat—no known precedents yet). Their natural lifespan is lengthened if their blood drinking habit becomes excessive; however, if they choose to take small amounts only to quench their thirst, their earthly years should exceed that of a normal wizard’s by no more than a decade or so. Their body temperature is slightly cooler than what should be considered normal, but they do have a heartbeat. Their reflection in the mirror is visible and they do possess a shadow under natural conditions; however, they are hard to photograph and the resulting image will be slightly blurry (reasons unknown)._

_Vampires are resilient creatures. They are able to function under dire circumstances and conditions, such as cold, heat, and extreme fatigue, and they are resistant to most viruses, drugs, and poisons. Their strength and speed are approximately twice the average wizard’s and their senses (taste, scent, and vision) are highly superior to wizards’._

_Once they are changed, they become infertile; thus, they are unable to procreate. They need to “sire” a wizard to create a new vampire. This means an exchange of blood: the vampire drinks from its victim, after which the victim feels symptoms akin to being drugged, thus making him or her susceptible to accepting the offered blood from their sire. The change is painless and normally takes twenty-four hours, after which the newborn experiences a great sense of thirst which can only be quenched by blood. While it is necessary for vampires to drink human blood, they can also drink from animals and magical creatures; still, the most effective cure for their thirst is the blood of a wizard – the more powerful, the better. Certain potions can also help keep the hunger at bay, but their overuse is inadvisable, as that can make them ill, or worse, insane. Their feeding is described as a sensuous and intensely pleasurable experience for both parties, after the initial sting of the bite. Feeding often precedes intercourse or occurs during the encounter._

_There is not much known about their mating habits, as most vampires tend to blend into society. There are many stories romanticizing this aspect of their lives and suggest that vampires mate for life. However, while it is true that they often settle down with wizards or witches, they do not only have one mate. They sense their potential mates by scent and, in that moment, their true nature is forced to the surface. Their eyes turn a vivid, unearthly blue and their canines elongate into elaborate fangs. Their behaviour at this point is often described as hostile; however, they never intentionally hurt their potential mate, as they are rare and precious to them…_

“Bloody Hell…” Harry cursed as he pushed away the tome he was reading, snorting slightly after realizing the irony of his words. After their first… date? Meeting? Whatever it was, Harry wanted to learn more about vampires, as his knowledge about them was far from excessive. While he was aware of the bits about their strength and heightened senses, he was stunned by many of the things he read. Potential mates? He couldn’t help but think back to his first encounter with Snape, when the man turned up in Grimmauld Place quite unexpectedly. Snape’s initial reaction to him didn’t seem intentional. He revealed his nature as if… he just couldn’t help it. For a moment, Harry considered fire-calling Snape, then thought better of it. _Right, that would go really well. “Hi, Severus. Having a nice evening? I don't mean to be a pest or anything; I was just wondering whether you saw me as a potential mate.”_ Harry snorted at that. Instead, he threw back the remaining half of his scotch and stared into the fire. As his hand unconsciously wandered towards the pack of cigarettes on his desk, he pondered on the possibilities of this strange situation. He lit a cigarette, drew several deep drags from it, then exhaled the smoke in a large, swirling grey cloud. As he recalled the description of the actual mating, a slight smirk tugged upon his lips. _Interesting, indeed._

* * * * *

Their second meeting took place at a small yet popular restaurant, owned by none other than Blaise Zabini—a place, naturally, chosen by Snape. By sheer strength of will, Harry managed not to mention his discoveries from the book and they entirely avoided the topic of vampirism. At first they tested the waters by discussing neutral topics, such as the weather and the setting of the restaurant; however, soon they launched into heated debates about politics, magical theory, and whatever came to their minds. It was obvious to both of them that at first they suspected that their… charged moments in the Den might have been a fluke, but the chemistry between them was just as intense as before. For an outsider, their attraction might not have been apparent, but for them, it was crystal clear. Under the table, their legs continuously pushed against each other and Harry even went so far as to rub his ankle against Snape’s, for which he received such a heated look that he actually started to believe that Snape was going to eat him alive. As for the older man, he often brushed his hand against Harry’s, and occasionally he touched his arm to make a point about something or other.

During the evening, the tension grew so palpable between them that when the waiter resurfaced with the bill, they could barely drag their eyes away from each other.

That night, Harry fully expected at least a kiss, especially when Snape insisted on Apparating Harry to the entrance of Grimmauld Place. They stood there for several intense moments, Harry a step higher than his companion. Harry wanted that kiss. He started to lower his head towards the older man, completely mesmerized by the burning desire he saw so clearly in the black depths of Snape’s eyes, but his movement was halted by the cool hand that suddenly clasped his. Harry looked at Snape questioningly, slightly dazed by his own arousal, but Snape just smirked at him with unabashed concupiscence, and drew his hand towards his lips. Harry didn’t, couldn’t, breathe as Snape exhaled hotly upon the sensitized skin of his inner wrist, and he was hardly able to swallow the moan that wanted to escape from his very being when the other man barely grazed his skin with the slightest of kisses. Then just as suddenly, Snape released his hand with one last caress. He stepped back, thanked him for the enjoyable evening, and after bidding him good night, Apparated away. It took Harry several long moments to get his wits together enough to step into his house. _Bloody unbelievable,_ he cursed, but he couldn’t help smirking himself. Snape was, after all, a Slytherin. The fact that he left him wanting more was part of his game.

* * * * *

Their third date, much to Harry’s chagrin and frustration, went nearly identically. This time, he chose the Three Broomsticks as the location, which earned him an amused eyebrow from his companion. Their conversation, due to the setting, was mostly on Hogwarts-related topics, during which Snape filled him in on the antics of the miscreant students and the dirtiest gossip about the teachers. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much. While he was old enough to realize that his ex-professors were no less human just because of their titles, it didn’t mean that he could have ever imagined the strict McGonagall as she stole food from the kitchens in her animagus form, or Flitwick singing dirty goblin songs under his breath when he thought no one was paying attention. Snape even confided in Harry about some of his less than exemplary deeds as a student, at which Harry readily recounted his own adventures. Surprisingly, it not only didn’t earn him the Potions Master’s ire, he even managed to make the usually stern man laugh as he explained to him how he had always managed to avoid the patrolling teachers by using the Marauder’s Map and his father’s cloak. By silent agreement, they avoided mentioning the war and their tumultuous past relationship, while they were still able to reminiscence about the years Harry had suffered under Snape’s tutelage.

As the evening wore on, they received several curious looks from the clientele. Slight touches, smiles, and even open laughter were now frequent between them, and Harry once even went so far as to offer a bite of cake from his own fork. While Harry had had a constant hard-on during their meal, his arousal was a pleasant warm ache in his loins and in the pit of his stomach. By now, he suspected that he was not going to get any release at the end of the evening, yet he insisted on accompanying Snape back to the gates of Hogwarts, if for nothing else but the pleasure of the older man’s company.

“You know,” he started as they walked on the leaf-covered path that led towards the castle, “I never expected to enjoy our dates so much. I thought that I would, at best, get a decent essay for Teddy, and I even approved of your plans for creating a new curriculum. Win-win. But this?” Harry shook his head with an amused expression as he somewhat theatrically spread his arms. “This, I’d have never guessed.”

Snape chuckled as he nodded in agreement. “Neither would I. It seems that our characters are not so… contradictory.”

Harry risked a sidelong glance at the older man, all the while pondering whether he should bring up his newfound knowledge of vampires or not. On one hand, he really wanted to be able to be honest with Snape. On the other hand, however, he still felt somewhat unsure about the other’s reaction, as he was well known for his volatile temper, even though during their dates he never witnessed such an outburst. Then, deciding to follow his instincts, he halted Snape’s steps as he put a careful hand to his arm.

“Is this because you think that I could be… a potential mate to you?”

For a moment, Harry saw something in the dark eyes, but it quickly disappeared before he could identify it.

“You read up on vampires, I assume?” Snape asked cautiously, then at Harry’s answering nod, he exhaled an uneasy sigh. “I should have expected this. And yet…” Harry saw how Snape was struggling and he squeezed his arm encouragingly, already regretting bringing up the topic so soon. But before he could give the Potions Master an out, Snape went on tensely, dispersing the air of levity that had so far characterised their date.

“You have to understand that this is quite new to me as well. Of course, when I was turned I… researched the topic extensively. I would have hardly survived otherwise. But I never expected to find a mate, potential or not. Yet, when I sensed you that night at Grimmauld Place, I…”

To his surprise, Harry felt a rush of relief. He knew that this… feeling of involvement should have been far too soon; however, now he had an explanation. On some very basic, primal level, they must have been compatible. That was why they were so drawn to each other that he felt that each touch could consume him with its burning intensity. That’s why he tried so hard to show Snape how much he had changed since he had been that obstinate schoolboy. And that was why Snape was so cautious with their… intimacy. He must have felt the call, the burning need that his nature enforced on him. And Harry wanted it, wanted this man who at this moment seemed unable to meet his eyes.

He brushed the luscious dark hair out of the downcast face and gently stroked the pale cheek, silently begging Snape to look at him. When he was again able to see those bottomless black eyes, he smiled warmly at the other man.

“It’s okay, Severus. I just wanted… needed to know. I think you know by now that I’m not about to play games and I can promise you that I won’t take advantage of your situation. Quite frankly, I find it very flattering that such a strong, intelligent man would feel that he found a match in me.” When he felt that some of the tension left the other, he continued. “I can wait. If anything happens I know that… that this is going to be new for the both of us. But if we are both willing, I’m looking forward to the experience.”

Snape graced him with a fleeting smile before he put his hand on Harry’s, which still rested against his cheek. His tone was serious as his eyes bore searchingly into Harry’s. “While none of this was my initial intention, now that things are going in this… direction, I cannot take this lightly. It’s not in my nature as a person, and not in the nature of the creature I am.”

“Then we are, again, well matched.”

Harry felt it as the remaining tension left Snape. They continued to stand there for a few more moments, simply enjoying their closeness, before resuming their walk toward the castle. However, unlike before, Snape encircled Harry’s waist with his left arm and drew him against his body. In response, Harry threw his right arm across his companion’s broad shoulders and grinned to himself. When they reached the gates, he saw that Snape intended to blow him off again with a simple good night; however, he was now better prepared, and swiftly stepped into the other’s personal space. He heard the quick intake of breath as he slowly leaned closer, but he didn’t stop and Snape didn’t protest. Their cool lips met for a brief, barely-there touch, then drew apart, just to meet again in a longer, but no less sweet, kiss. Even though his heart was hammering in his chest and he felt that he could burst from this simple yet devastatingly sensuous touch, Harry only lingered for a few moments before he drew back. Snape’s long, thick eyelashes fluttered against his cheek before he opened his eyes. The same insane desire burned in their depths that Harry felt in himself. Snape quite unexpectedly gave him one last, quick kiss before he stepped back.

“Thank you, Harry,” he rasped in a barely recognizable voice, before, with a swirl of his long robes, he turned towards the castle and strode towards its safety. Harry remained rooted to that spot long after Hogwarts swallowed up its headmaster. _“Interesting”_ no longer described this turn of events.

* * * * *

“Hi. Can I come through?”

“Ah, yes of course, Harry.”

No sooner had Harry stepped out of the Floo than suddenly he was assaulted by an armful of excited boy.

“Dad,” cried Teddy happily and if it were possible, he burrowed even further into the safety of his father’s embrace. Not that Harry was protesting one bit, as he was overjoyed himself. While he knew it was the natural order of things that he had to let Teddy go to Hogwarts, yet he had not realized that he was unprepared for the actual feeling of loneliness their separation had caused. He chuckled now as he petted the boy’s hair, which turned an outrageous shade of pink from his sudden excitement.

“Hullo, Teddy. I didn’t expect to see you in the headmaster’s office. Something I should know about?” he asked with mock severity in his voice as he raised an eyebrow to complete the ‘stern parent’ expression.

“Dad,” laughed the boy while he shook his head vehemently. “I’m here to work on my assignment. I told you that the headmaster agreed to help me.”

Harry belatedly remembered to look up from Teddy. In his joy at finally seeing his son, he had completely forgotten that they actually had company. “Where are my manners? Hello, Headmaster Snape. Thank you for letting me through.”

“Good afternoon to you, as well, Mr Potter” answered the older man, his amusement clear in his voice and in the slight crinkles around his eyes. “I trust that this is not an emergency call?”

“No, I… er… just wanted to see Teddy,” explained Harry, and for some reason, he felt himself blushing.

Teddy grinned up at his father as he fidgeted in his arms, unable to contain his giddiness. “He promised to watch our Quiddich practice,” he cried, as he bounced up and down in his excitement. Then, realizing to whom he was speaking, he added hastily, “Of course, if it’s alright with you, sir.”

Snape had so far watched the reunion in silence. While of course he knew that Harry had adopted Theodore Lupin as his son, going so far as to even bestow the Potter name on him as well, it was quite different to actually see them together. He never had any doubt about Harry’s commitment, but their obvious love for one another filled him with an unexpected warmth. The headmaster shook his head, both to answer his young charge’s question and to rid himself of his own musings.

He looked at the overexcited child and addressed him with such kindness that it nearly made Harry’s jaw drop. “No, it is all right, Mr Lupin. I think we were quite finished for the day. Come back on Friday and we shall continue where we left off.”

Teddy grinned up at him happily. “Thank you, sir! Will do, sir!” Then he turned back to his father. “I gotta run, Dad, but you can catch me on the pitch in twenty minutes. You’ll be there, right?”

Harry ruffled the still-pink strands of his son’s unruly hair as he chuckled, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now, run along, or you'll be late.”

Teddy nodded, still grinning, then moved to gather his notes and put them away into his bag. He started for the door, but stopped for one more spontaneous hug to which Harry readily opened his arms. Now blushing bashfully, he mumbled another thank you to Snape, then he practically sprinted out of the office.

The two adults, now alone, looked at each other. Harry couldn’t help but laugh sheepishly as Snape raised an amused eyebrow at him. “Yeah, I know, he is a handful.”

Snape snorted. “He is at that.” He motioned for Harry to sit down and, after his visitor had settled, he sat at the other end of the table. “But otherwise, he is a surprisingly well behaved child.”

“Surprisingly, Severus?” Harry asked, still grinning. “You mean considering that I’m the one who is raising him?”

He was only teasing, but Snape’s expression turned serious. “You may have been an awfully trying child, but the circumstances of your youth had been more than difficult. But even if I hadn’t met young Theodore, I’d have still believed that you would be a good father, after getting to know you.”

Harry smiled brightly at the genuine compliment. “Thank you. I’m trying to do my best.”

“You mean you are trying to give him everything you didn’t have.”

Harry withstood the scrutinizing look Snape was giving him, even though he felt like fidgeting. He rarely talked about his childhood any more and, while they were getting along surprisingly well, this conversation felt slightly surreal to Harry. “Yes, quite.”

To his surprise, Snape smiled at him gently. “There is no need to be embarrassed, Harry. It is… good to see that you both gave each other what you both really needed: a family.”

Harry smiled back at Snape as his insides melted with the warmth he was feeling. He had had some doubts before about where their relationship might go, considering that they were both coming with a package deal: Snape with his condition and Harry with his son. But after everything he had learnt about this man and after seeing him dealing with Teddy, he suddenly felt much lighter about the future. Their future.

“You know that you have mellowed quite a bit, don’t you?”

Snape snorted, half in mirth, half in self-deprecation. “Well, yes, the absence of two crazed megalomaniacs, a war, and my position as a spy and the resident Potions instructor could do that.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “I’m glad that you are at a better place.”

“I can see that I’m not alone in that.”

“It’s good. It really is. It’s just…”

“Yes?”

“I know it’s the way of life and everything, but I miss Teddy. It’s hard… letting them go.” He sighed, then gave a half-embarrassed smile. “I wonder how Molly could do it.”

“Maybe it had to do with the fact that she had seven,” Severus answered, smirking. “She always had more children to keep her company, and when the last, Ginevra, came to Hogwarts, I think she might have reached the point where enough was enough.”

Harry wanted to glare at Snape, but he couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of him. Knowing the Weasleys, Snape might have been on the right track. “Okay, let’s leave it at that. Now tell me, how is your plan coming along?”

Unexpectedly, the other man’s expression suddenly clouded. “Not very well. I expected…”

“What?”

The headmaster sighed. “I expected that it would be breaking news that the two of us were seeing one another and the public and, most importantly the Board, would see me in a much more positive light. However, as you warned me at the beginning, your comings and goings get far less attention than during and shortly after the war.”

Harry frowned. While he was quite happy that nowadays people left him to his own devices, he really wanted to help Snape, and not just because he had learnt that he enjoyed dating the man. His ideas about the new curriculum were brilliant and most certainly beneficial. The Board just needed to open their eyes to see and understand that certain changes were not only good, but necessary.

“Maybe it will be enough if I go with you to the Board’s gala.”

Snape sighed again, his shoulders slumped, expression tired. “Perhaps.”

Harry reached out, and squeezed the other man’s hand, then he reluctantly stood up. “I’m sorry, but I have to go now. Can I come back after the practice?”

Snape stood up as well to see him to the door. “Unfortunately, I’m rather busy. I have to go over what seems like never-ending paperwork. Though I’m trying to comfort myself with the knowledge that it’s only a dozen or so.”

“Oh…” said Harry, disappointment clear in his voice.

“But we are still on for Saturday, I assume?”

At that, Harry smiled slightly and nodded. “Of course. Try to get some sleep, too. You look tired.”

Snape’s lips twitched, but he obviously wasn’t in the mood for a full smile. “Don’t forget that night is my time.”

Harry grinned, then on impulse, he gave a chaste peck to the corner of Snape’s mouth. “Rest a bit, anyway. Goodnight, Severus.”

Then, without waiting for a reply, he marched down the staircase, aware that he was already going to be a tad late. As he hurried towards the pitch, he kept thinking about the cause Snape was fighting for and ways he could help him. By the time he arrived at his destination, the frown was gone from his face and was replaced by an expression of sheer determination. He had a plan. A plan, mind you, he didn’t like. But it was a plan, nonetheless, and as plans went, it was quite a Slytherin one.

* * * * *

“What the bloody hell is this supposed to mean?”

_Uh, oh,_ thought Harry. _Here it comes._ He stood up, waiting for his not-so-unexpected visitor, as he attacked the stairs with steps as loud as if he intended to break them. _Better them than me,_ Harry murmured to himself sardonically, only a moment before Snape threw the door open and barged into the living room.

Harry knew that his plan was risky; he could not only make a fool out of himself publicly, but if Snape couldn't understand his reasons for doing it, whatever they had had could go to waste. Yet that conviction, that strong need to do the right thing, was still a huge part of Harry’s personality and he couldn’t just ignore it. He wanted to help Snape, and he would do it, even if the stubborn bastard would rip his head off for his efforts.

Harry watched him wearily. Dressed in his usual sinister black robes, his chest heaving and his hands clenched into white fists, his expression distorted with uncontrolled fury, his flashing eyes the angriest Harry had seen since his own Hogwarts years—Snape seemed nothing like the benevolent man he had last seen only a few days ago. He looked dangerous, positively feral, and every bit the vampire he was and that he usually tried to hide behind his rigid control.

“Potter, would you care to explain this little stunt of yours?” he asked, and although his voice was an even drawl, Harry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on their ends.

“I wanted to help. And I thought it was 'Harry'.”

“Well, _Harry_ , I do not appreciate having this kind of help,” Snape shouted as he took a wrinkled piece of newspaper out of his robe and he promptly threw it at Harry’s feet. Harry looked down at the Quibbler and saw the interview he had given Luna: _“Harry Potter, new paramour of Headmaster Severus Snape, backs up the new curriculum.”_

“You wanted to have the public’s and the Board’s attention. Now you have it.”

He barely registered that Snape was moving before he was pushed against the wall by the livid vampire.

“I had decades of being manipulated by do-gooders and psychopathic maniacs; I won’t stand for being the pawn of another wizard!”

Harry carefully placed his hand against Snape’s chest, but he was like a solid wall against him, and Harry knew that no matter how hard he pushed, Snape wouldn’t budge. He licked his suddenly dry lips and looked into the inhumanly blue eyes.

“Severus, you know I respect you…”

“Respect? You went behind my back, you little…” Snape screamed at his face and he gripped Harry’s shoulders so hard that he was sure that there would be bruises later on. He looked at the older man, who was panting, apparently fighting for any vestige of rationality. Harry knew he should be afraid. He was held in the unwavering grip of a vampire who was obviously out of control. Yet even though his own emotions were in turmoil, he felt no fear. He felt sorrow for the man who suffered so much that now he couldn’t trust anyone. He felt sympathy for Snape, who spent his life learning to control himself and who was now losing that battle because of his affliction. And true to his own nature, he felt his own temper flaring, as always, when threatened.

“Calm down, Severus. I had no intention of manipulating you, but I…”

“No intention? Then why,” rasped Snape as he gripped him even harder. “I trusted you…” he whispered, and the agonized admission broke Harry’s last resolve.

He grabbed Snape’s head and he jerked it against his own. Their kiss was brutal, nothing like the careful, butterfly touches they had teased each other with. Harry bit down hard on the thin lips and when they opened in a tormented moan, he thrust his tongue inside that sinful mouth. Snape was not idle either; he tightened his grip on Harry, then, hearing him gasp, he started to tear away his clothes, which easily gave way to his superhuman strength. Harry felt the cool hands on his heaving, overheated body, and he groaned again. He mindlessly caressed the elongated fangs with his tongue, careless of the danger of their sharpness. When Snape tasted the first drops of blood, he let out an animalistic cry, and with a control he didn’t even know he still had, tore his mouth away from Harry’s.

“Fuck…” he panted, wiping the temptation off his reddened lips. “We can’t… I can’t.”

But Harry would have none of it. He surged back against the older man and kissed him again with all the pent up desire he held for him. “Yes,” he moaned into his mouth. “Do it.”

“Harry,” gasped Snape, blue eyes seeking dilated green ones. “If we don’t stop, I’ll claim you.”

For a moment, Harry closed his eyes and when he opened them, he let the other see the conviction and trust he felt. “Claim me. Then you will know that I wanted the best for you. Claim me, then you will know that I didn’t betray you. I wouldn’t. I want you. I…”

But he couldn’t continue, because Snape was on him again, kissing him, gripping, stroking, caressing every bit of flesh he could reach. “God, you have no idea,” he whispered against his neck, nipping the sensitive skin there, but not yet breaking it. “From the first moment I saw you, inhaled your scent… I wanted to taste you, drink from you, own you…”

“Severus…”

“Mine,” Snape growled, “You are mine, now.” The words had barely left his mouth when he sank his teeth into Harry’s neck. As the sweet, powerful taste exploded on his tongue, he moaned in sheer ecstasy and ground his straining erection against his lover’s answering hardness.

Harry screamed. Even the initial pain heightened his arousal and he helplessly keened and frotted against the hard body he wanted so much. Each needy noise Snape made against his neck sent a throb of flaring pleasure to his loins. He ground his hips against the other’s, moving restlessly, seeking, needing more, just a little bit more. When Snape increased the strength of his suction and simultaneously pushed himself impossibly closer to his younger lover, Harry exploded with a scream. As Snape felt the body against him stiffen, then the warm wetness against his own throbbing flesh, he tore his mouth away from his prize and came himself with a low moan.

For a moment they stood in each other’s embrace, motionless except for their heaving chests. Then Snape pushed his head off the shoulder he rested against and licked the two little puncture wounds that were still bleeding slightly. Harry made some soft, mewling noises, half in pleasure, half in discomfort. Snape shushed him gently, and a few moments later, Harry’s flesh was healed.

“There will be scarring,” whispered Snape softly, and he was unable to meet Harry’s gaze that so desperately sought his own.

Harry lifted a slightly shaking hand and caressed his lover’s face. The formerly so passionate expression was replaced by guilt, and Harry was having none of it. “It’s okay,” he cooed gently, as his hand wandered into the long, lush strands of Severus’ hair. “I told you to claim me. You did just that.”

Fearful black eyes met with tender green ones. Now that the creature in him no longer ruled his actions, Severus felt out of his element, completely ill-equipped to handle the situation. He looked at Harry, searching his gaze, his soft, affectionate expression, and he was finally able to see the man for who he really was. His mate. His mate, who really wanted him.

“Harry,” the name left his lips like a soft prayer, then he kissed the lush mouth of his lover. Their lips moved against each other tenderly, and as they each opened their mouths in a gasp filled with warm pleasure, their tongues sought each other to mate in a gentle, loving dance. When they finally drew back after what seemed like an eon, they looked at each other and they couldn’t help the shy smiles that bloomed on both of their faces.

“I should have told you…” Harry said softly, his eyes begging Snape to understand him. “But I thought…”

Snape silenced him with a long finger against his lips. “Shh,…” he drawled, his voice full of warmth. “Yes, you should have. And I shouldn’t have overreacted. But it’s done and we are here now.” Then at Harry’s hopeful smile, he grinned. “And now I have claimed you. My mate.”

Harry’s smile turned predatory as he first gave a soft lick to the finger that was still caressing his lower lip, then at Snape’s sharp intake of breath, he drew the digit into the warm cavern of his mouth and started sucking on it suggestively. The vampire groaned, completely unprepared for the assault, and his pupils dilated with his newly flaring arousal. Harry released the finger with an obscene pop from his mouth, then leered at his dazed lover. “I think I need to do some claiming of my own.” And without warning, he draw Severus against his body, then Apparated them into the master bedroom.

They had barely materialized when Snape drew him into another heated kiss. “You wish to claim me as well, hmm?” Harry shivered at the murmured words against his sensitized lips.

“Uh-huh.” He grinned, and with a wicked grin on his face, he vanished all their clothing with a bout of wordless, wandless magic. At Snape’s gobsmacked expression, he laughed. “I don’t do this often and only in the company of those I trust. I hope it doesn’t bother you.”

In response, the older man kissed him again, growling against the reddened lips. They couldn’t get enough of each other’s taste. As their tongues battled for dominance, Harry started to manoeuvre his lover towards the bed, all the while stroking, petting, caressing him on every inch of his newly revealed skin. When the backs of Snape’s knees reached the edge of the bed, Harry gave him another push, upon which his lover fell onto the covers with a surprised ‘umph’. Then, to Harry’s surprise, he sprawled comfortably on the bed with one hand casually behind his head and the other placed on his flat stomach, and his long, elegant legs slightly spread.

Harry feasted on the view. No, his lover could never be considered traditionally handsome, with his strong, stark features and a body that was slightly too slim; yet this man wore himself with such elegance, such strength, that Harry felt almost reverent as he gazed at him. He took in the lightly haired legs that seemed to go on for miles and miles, the long, thick shaft that strained towards the lightly muscled stomach, the smooth, white expense of a chest, the long, black hair that fell onto wide shoulders. Finally, his green eyes met the obsidian ones of his partner, their desire mirrored in each other’s expression.

“Tattoos, Harry?” asked the older man, and he moved the hand that rested on his stomach to caress the motif that marked his lover’s pelvis on the right side.

Harry shivered at his touch. “It’s… It’s the Eye of Ra, otherwise known as Horus.” He had to lick his suddenly dry lips as his lover mapped out the symbol with teasing, barely there caresses. “He is the Egyptian sky god. Power, good health, and protection are usually… usually attributed to him.”

Suddenly Snape turned onto his stomach and licked at the image. “Any other tattoos I should know about?” he murmured against the tantalizing patch of skin as he continued his explorations with his mouth and tongue.

“Ah… Yes… Yeah… Two more, actually,” Harry answered, barely coherent, as he took Snape’s head into his hands, weaving his fingers into the sinfully soft strands of his lover’s hair.

“Hmmm… and those would be?”

“You are such a tease, Severus,” Harry accused him without venom, then he pointed at his left wrist with his right hand. “The symbol of the Deathly Hallows.” At this, Snape stopped his ministrations and, first, he looked at the tattoo, then to its owner, his eyes full of questions.

Harry sighed, his arousal waning a bit. “It’s ah… part of who I am now. Part of who I became. I consciously kept them separate. Too much power for anyone. I only have the Invisibility Cloak with me, and I hid the wand and the stone. But finally I had to acknowledge, even if only to myself, that I am the rightful master of them. Even though it’s…”

“It’s quite a responsibility,” Snape finished for him, understanding Harry’s discomfort. As he glanced back at the symbol, he couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of how much power this man had. Snape might have been physically stronger and a powerful wizard himself; it all was dwarfed by Harry’s enormous capabilities. He knew that he wouldn’t have had the strength to knowingly give up such articles as the Deathly Hallows. Yet, this man had done it and he was obviously fine with his choice. And Snape was more than fine with his. He smiled, then gave a reverent kiss to the symbol that cost both of them and many others so much, before he raised his eyes back to his mate’s. “And the last one?”

“Between my shoulder blades,” Harry answered, his voice soft with gratitude at his lover’s understanding. He then turned, revealing the last mark on his body. Snape raised an intrigued eyebrow at the strange image. It was a snake, coiled into an elegant knot with its head slightly raised. But his body was created with elegantly written words that read: _Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus._ “Draco not only means dragon, but snake as well. It reminds me of Hogwarts, and also, my more Slytherin characteristics,” Harry explained hastily, the slight embarrassment clear in his voice.

“You are a most baffling man, Harry Potter,” Severus said amusedly, before he turned his lover around and pulled him back onto the bed, on top of himself. “Now, if I remember correctly, you were going to do some claiming.” And with that, he kissed the younger man again.

As they fed off of each other’s hungry lips, their arousal flared anew. Harry pushed his tongue deep inside his lover’s mouth, fucking it slowly, sensuously, showing him what he intended to do to his body. Severus moaned in understanding and drew him impossibly closer. Their hips canted against each other and when their pricks rubbed together, the older man tore his mouth away from Harry’s as he cried out in ecstasy. “Merlin, Harry…”

“God, you’re so hot, Severus,” panted Harry as he slowly started to kiss along his lover’s jaw line. He nipped teasingly behind one ear, which earned him a groan, and he bit into the tender skin of the neck, upon which Severus cried out again. “So hot and responsive.”

“Ahh… less talk and more… god… more claiming.”

“Demanding little bastard, aren’t you,” came the amused murmur around a pebbled nipple, and the older man barely managed to grind out that yes, indeed, he was demanding, but not so little.

Harry laughed in sheer exhilaration before he dove down and swallowed his lover’s engorged member down to the root.

“Ohhh!” Severus' cry reverberated from the walls and Harry could scarcely manage to restrain his mate’s straining hips.

“Easy, Severus, easy,” Harry whispered soothingly, giving gentle kisses to the mushroom head of the glistening penis. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

Severus was writhing on the bed, desperately on edge, his chest heaving with the strength of his passion. “Please, Harry, I can’t… too long. I need… ahh… please.”

“Shhh, ’s okay,” croaked back Harry, humbled by the openness of his partner. He quickly cast a lubrication spell to his lover’s opening, then as he slowly sucked that lovely cock inside his mouth again, he pushed at first one, then two fingers into that warm channel. “God, so tight… ahh… you’re going to kill me. Want you so much.”

“Harry… want you. Now, please!”

And suddenly Harry was embraced by not only his lover’s arms, but also by his legs, which insistently drew him closer to Severus’ willing body. Harry moaned, removed his fingers from the other man’s body, then, unable to resist his begging and whimpering lover, he pushed his cock inside that slick, tight opening.

They both cried out in the upsurge of their pleasure. Harry knew that neither of them was going to last long. The bliss of being within his lover’s body already seemed too much to bear. He adjusted the angle of his thrusts and he knew that he had found that sweet spot when Severus threw his head back and practically screamed out in ecstasy. Harry wanted to grip the engorged flesh that was rubbing against his belly, but Severus batted his hand away, whispering, “Only you…” Harry groaned, his movements becoming erratic, then when he felt that tight channel clench around him, he erupted inside his lover’s body, barely registering the hot wetness that splashed against and coated his own stomach.

Harry collapsed in a heap, panting, exhausted, and more sated than he had ever felt before. With a strength he didn’t even think he possessed, he tried to move away from the man underneath him, but Severus held him fast and secure. “Stay,” he heard him whisper gently against his ear, and he did just that, more than willingly. When he was finally able to raise his head, Harry looked at his equally disheveled lover. He took in the rumpled, sweaty hair that spread out in such a stark contrast to the white pillow underneath his head. Harry stroked the unruly strands, the face with its strong cheekbone and large nose, the sensual lips that were puffy and reddened by their ferocious kisses. He pressed another, now gentle kiss against Severus’ mouth, just because he could, and grinned at the amused but very much contented look he received.

“Mine,” he growled possessively, to which Severus answered with a chuckle and a nod.

“Only as much as you are mine,” Severus sighed, and he tucked his mate back into the crook of his neck. Harry’s last thought before sleep claimed him was that he could definitely live with such ownership.

Epilogue

“Wow, thank you so much, Severus,” exclaimed Teddy a moment after he retrieved his gift from the box that had been wrapped in paper on which reindeers were chasing each other. Harry and Severus looked at one another over the excited child’s head and Harry had to chuckle. He still couldn’t believe that, in the few months they had been together, his lover had not only managed to creep into his son’s heart as well, but also convert the young boy into a potions enthusiast.

After they claimed each other as mates, Harry all but declared to Severus that their relationship was going to be a public one and he was immediately going to tell his son about it. If he had anticipated any arguments from his new lover, he had been most definitely disappointed. Severus took to his idea and actually admitted that he had learnt to like Teddy and he was sure that they were going to get along. And while at first he had been a bit insecure about the idea of becoming a parental figure to anyone, he had surprised himself—and Harry’s extended family as well—in that he was quite adept at it.

Harry tried to spend as much time with his mate as he could, but with his job, and with Severus being the headmaster, they could mostly only see each other on the weekends. They usually had Friday nights to themselves, but on the weekends, they often strolled the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade.

In December, the Board of Governors had had its annual gala, which Harry attended with Severus. He remained silent while his lover outlined his plans about the new curriculum to the members, cleverly guiding them into a preliminary agreement. Severus had been surprised by how well things went, and he mostly attributed it to his mate’s presence; however, Harry was convinced that it had nothing to do with himself or with his name, but with his lover’s endurance and determination. In the end, they agreed to disagree, as the matter was inconsequential seeing that their original deal had been more of a success than they could have ever imagined. Hogwarts was finally not only starting to be open to some progressive ideas, but Harry and Severus had found their true partner in each other. And while Harry still often jokingly said that life was _interesting_ , they both knew that was the understatement of the century.

Severus shook his head to get back to the present and playfully ruffled Teddy’s now-purple hair. “You are quite welcome. After you manage to tear yourself away from your other gifts, we shall try your new potions kit.”

Teddy, to Severus’ utter shock, threw himself into his arms and giddily asked, “In your private potions lab?”

Severus looked at Harry, who was smiling at them warmly, quite touched himself by the scene. “If you promise to follow my lead,” he answered finally, and hugged Teddy to himself with only the slightest bit of awkwardness in his stance.

“Now, son, let him breathe a moment, would you?” Harry laughed when his son poked his tongue out at him, before carefully gathering up his gifts to take them to his room. “Be back in fifteen minutes for breakfast,” he warned him before he could disappear from sight, knowing full well that Teddy would happily skip breakfast just to play with his new presents.

Severus stood up from the armchair and maneuvered himself beside Harry before he took him into his arms. “Hmmm…. Nice Christmas.”

Harry moaned quietly at the feeling of warm lips against the permanent marks against his neck. “Very nice.” He wanted to turn around to kiss his lover, but Severus stopped his advances with a single finger against his lips.

“I have one more gift for you,” he said quietly, and if Harry didn’t know better, he would have sworn that his mate was nervous about something.

“Okay, you have my attention, mister,” he murmured teasingly, before he kissed the finger against his lips, just because he could. “Give away.”

To his surprise, Severus took out a parchment from his robe and, without comment, he put it into his lover’s hand. Harry looked up at Severus, but his face became inscrutable. He shrugged and, not wanting to waste any more time with guessing, he opened the parchment. As he read through the lines, his eyes became round with wonder.

“Severus… this is…”

“Anderson is leaving next year anyway and I need a reliable DADA teacher. I know you like your job but you've often… complained that you missed Teddy and… well, myself.” Harry was shocked to discover that his lover was rambling. Severus never rambled. Before he could insert even a word, the older man quickly went on, obviously keen on persuading him. “I’m not only trying to convince you to accept the position because you are my mate and I want you by my side, but because I’m sure that you would be an ideal candidate and a…

“Severus. I accept.”

“You… you do?”

Harry finally kissed his mate and smiled at him. “Let’s say that this could be another _interesting_ element of our deal.” 

-The End-


End file.
